Chapter 50: Main Race 2

Feng Miwan: “That’s great! Yibai, if I win the double crown, can you come down from the stands to celebrate with me?”

Xiong Yibai: “Sure.”

Feng Miwan: “!!! Then I have to win! It’s a deal! Just wait and see me claim that double crown!”

Even through the screen, Xiong Yibai could imagine Feng Miwan instantly buzzing with energy, full of vitality.

She didn’t reply with anything more, simply set her phone aside and began preparing the handover work for the next day.

Meanwhile, the paddock remained brightly lit.

Each team busily repaired their racecars and analyzed data, preparing for the next day’s Main Race 2.

For the Maple Grove Racing Team, the biggest challenge was that Feng Miwan would start from tenth place (based on the reverse order of the top ten from Main Race 1).

This was a disadvantageous position, meaning she would be caught in the chaotic midfield battle.

Feng Yuxiao and the team stayed up all night, repeatedly studying race data and devising multiple overtaking strategies and pit plans.

“Little Wan, tomorrow’s focus is safely navigating the start to avoid early incidents. We have an advantage in long-distance pace, so be patient and wait for opportunities,” Feng Yuxiao emphasized in the final pre-race meeting.

Feng Miwan nodded seriously. Winning the first race had boosted her confidence immensely, but she was well aware that starting from tenth place, any slip-up could waste all their previous efforts.

At the same time, Song Zhe shut himself in the simulator room for a long while. When he emerged, his face was still icy cold, but a fiercer flame burned in the depths of his eyes—a burning desire for revenge.

It was foreseeable that in Main Race 2 the next day, he would not give up easily.

The news headlines naturally featured dual reports on Feng Miwan’s victory and Song Zhe’s crash.

“Rain Battle Goddess Conquers the Dry Track!”

“Song Zhe’s Aggressive Exit Puts Points in Peril!”

Such titles were everywhere.

Fans debated heatedly online—some praised Feng Miwan’s stability, others pitied Song Zhe, and many anticipated whether Feng Miwan, starting from tenth the next day, could create another miracle.

The event’s suspense and hype were fully ignited.

As night faded, the Magic City International Racecourse awoke once more to sunlight and the roar of engines.

Main Race 2 was about to begin.

Despite claiming victory in Main Race 1, Feng Miwan’s position on the Annual Drivers’ Championship Standings remained precarious:

1st: Song Zhe – 88 points

2nd: Feng Miwan – 78 points

3rd: Jiang Chengfeng – 76 points

This meant that if Feng Miwan wanted to achieve her dream of the annual championship, she not only needed a strong result in today’s Main Race 2 but also had to keep scoring in the next two races.

The challenge was unprecedented.

On the grid, the atmosphere was tense.

Feng Miwan’s Maple Leaf Red Racecar sat in tenth, with a dense pack of opponents ahead.

Song Zhe, having retired from Main Race 1 with no result, started behind all classified finishers per the rules—making his position even tougher than Feng Miwan’s.

Jiang Chengfeng’s fluorescent green racecar was in fifth.

The stands buzzed with excitement, but many of Feng Miwan’s supporters gripped their seats nervously.

“Sister Wan chasing from tenth to first? That’s too tough…”

“Believe in her! She’s the one who’s created countless miracles!”

The red lights went out, and the race began!

A chaotic start, a fight for survival!

Feng Miwan’s reaction off the line was lightning-fast, but tenth place plunged her into the heart of the pack.

Rivals pressed close on both sides, and entering Turn 1, she had to be extraordinarily cautious—seeking opportunities while avoiding contact.

“Hold the outside, Little Wan, safety first!” Feng Yuxiao reminded over the radio.

She barely held her position, losing no places but gaining none either.

Further back, Song Zhe’s blue racecar charged like an enraged bull!

From the rear of the pack, he launched a frenzied overtaking spree—aggressive, even reckless moves through several corners that had everyone on edge, his positions climbing rapidly.

“Song Zhe’s up to thirteenth!”

“Twelfth! He’s flying!”

At that moment, Jiang Chengfeng’s performance turned heads.

His driving ditched the usual flashy style for precise lines, surging straight to third.

Word was, his father had personally “educated” him the night before, and the results showed.

Xiong Yibai’s eyes locked firmly on that Maple Leaf Red Racecar, watching it weave arduously through the traffic. Every near miss with another car made her heart leap.

After five laps, Feng Miwan’s steadier pace allowed her to pass a slower car ahead, climbing to ninth.

But now, she was trapped in a “Train Formation” formed by several midfield team cars.

These cars had similar performance, holding each other up in a tight conga line that made overtaking extremely difficult.

“Little Wan, the train ahead is slow—their trap speed is weaker than ours. Look for a move at the end of the straight!” Feng Yuxiao analyzed from the data.

“Got it.”

Feng Miwan responded, probing repeatedly, but the cars ahead defended tightly, blocking her every dive attempt.

Meanwhile, Song Zhe had closed right up behind her!

She spotted that flash of blue in her mirrors, and the pressure mounted.

“Song Zhe is 0.8 seconds back, and closing fast,” Feng Yuxiao reported.

Song Zhe latched on quickly, using the slipstream to attempt a pass on the straight.

The two title contenders were already in direct battle early on!

“I won’t let you by that easily!”

Feng Miwan gritted her teeth, her defensive line impeccable.

The two went wheel-to-wheel down the entire main straight—side by side in a high-stakes duel demanding perfect technique and reactions. In the end, Feng Miwan’s slight nose ahead let her seal the corner entry, holding ninth!

“Beautiful defense!” Cheers erupted from the stands.

This fierce duel held her position but chewed through her tires and cost time, letting the Train Formation pull away slightly.

As the race approached the one-third mark, the first pit window loomed.

Teams crunched strategy numbers.

“Little Wan, trailing like this won’t work. We’re pitting early for the Undercut Strategy!”